What a Hero Needs
by Bookworm1988
Summary: Summary: Please read!MAYOR REWRITE! It’s my first fanfic ever! It’s an AU post OotP. After his godfather’s death, Harry experiences a change that could be the wizarding world’s downfall. It is up to someone else to be our hero’s hero, but…Who will it be?
1. Prologue: It Begins

IMPORTANT: Please read! It's my first fanfic ever! It's an AU post OotP. I started this story sometime ago but my Muse suddenly went overdrive and I got mixed up with the timelines I had set. This is the EDITED story. It's the same plot I had planned, only it will be much more detailed …After his godfather's death, Harry experiences a change that could be the wizarding world's downfall. It is up to someone else to be our hero's hero, but…Who will it be?

_Disclaimer: see profile, I did say I own nothing except the plot and maybe a few characters as I see fit. Woe be me, the rest belongs to the genius J. K. Rowling. I won't be repeating it all over again. I'd rather write my story instead so finish whatever other business you have to do, sit comfortably and grab your popcorn while you enjoy the show._

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

On with the story!

"**_What a Hero Needs"_**

**Prologue: It Begins**

Irony can be found everywhere, sometimes unseen and others not so. But for a certain green-eyed fifteen-year-old boy it is much too obvious too many times, especially on such a beautiful summer day…

_Beautiful my arse…Who was the raving lunatic to decide that those somber grey figures looked good in a so-called park"? God, I am being really sarcastic…Anyway, who decided that all-black clothes were the latest fashion for summertime? Really, the nerve of some people…_

_Oh, yes, I forgot that hooked-nosed bat does dress all-black everyday…and HE was a black dog while in his animagus form…If only I hadn't been so stupid…I should have listened…Maybe Hermione is right…why do I insist in being a "hero"?...If I had just- No, stop it! I won't think about it…_

The young man stopped that train of thought least he let himself drown in misery and guilt and returned to his previous activity of staring at the ridiculous marble slate that read:

"_**Here lies Sirius Black: an honorable man"**_

He then tried listening to (he scowled) Dumbledore's speech:

"…gave numerous donations to the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix. He was an honorable man from an influential family who suffered through twelve years in Askaban-" "_What?" _The teen thought, no longer paying attention, _"What man is he talking about? That's definitely not my godfather or my dad's best friend…He was a Marauder, a friend, a prankster, he HATED the Ministry…he had to run away from his family, for Merlin's sake! _ He restrained himself from breaking his chair in half.

The ancient wizard with a silver beard long enough that it could be tucked under his belt, known as Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was standing behind a podium in the park behind the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters where he addressed the members of said order as they remembered the now deceased Sirius Black.

The so-called park was, in reality, a backyard graveyard, complete with somber statues or other monuments for each of the Black family members buried there. A light mist fell over the place, giving it a look that betrayed the fact that it was quite a sunny summer day outside on the other side of the property's wall.(A/N: It would be similar to the backyard from Disney's "Haunted Mansion" if anyone has trouble picturing it. It's quite darkish, if you ask me).

Barely a week after the DA's trip to the Department of Mysteries, the members of the Order had decided to honor Sirius's death even if there was no body to bury, it was a fact that those who fell past the Veil couldn't return to the living. So they decided to make a really boring monument dedicated to him, which our hero had changed while no one was watching. It now read:

**_Dedicated to Padfoot_**

_**Beloved **_

_**Friend, prankster and father**_

_**May you ride again**_

"_**Mischief managed"**_

_**R. I. P.**_

He didn't know why he had changed it-it had just _felt _like the right thing to do at the time.It seemed amazing that everyone staying at Number Twelve Grimmauld's Place was done with mourning Sirius's death except, of course, Remus, who had just lost his best friend all over again. Unfortunately, being that each was coping with their own burdens; nobody had noticed that the fifteen year-old hadn't even begun to grieve. In fact, he had been in a state of shock since he had witnessed the dead of the only man he had ever known as a father figure. He had gone through so many dreadful experiences during the last five years that everyone had thought he would get over it pretty fast. How wrong they really were.

Nobody knew that he had never got over Cedric's death either and that he was dealing with even more than anybody thought possible: guilt (even if no one blamed him), his life at the Dursleys' and, worst of all… the prophesy Dumbledore had seen fit to tell him about just after having witnessed _his _death and being possessed by "Snake-face", as he called his nemesis since that particular experience.

"The-Boy-Who-Lived" had never really told anyone the whole truth about his life at the Dursleys and the only one close enough to it was now dead…

_It's all because of my fault…_ Rage seized him…_That's it! _... Tears welled up in his eyes…_ I'VE HAD IT! NO MORE!_

Every single person within the Headquarters turned out to be too busy when the inevitable happened… Something inside Harry snapped and for an instant, it seemed his eyes turned brighter before reality hit home…and those shiny emerald green orbs became empty of emotion… dull and cold.

And in a place further than anyone could think of, a man found what he had long searched for, though not in the way he hoped…

He smiled sadly, "At last…I've found you…Let's pray it's not too late".

**A/N: I hope you like it. As I wrote before, this is the same plot. I only corrected some grammar mistakes and added several details I had previously forgotten.**

**Please review!!!!**


	2. Ch1: Familiar Strangers

_Warning: this chapter contains a bit of violence._

Having said that… Let the show continue!

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

"**_What a Hero Needs"_**

**Chapter #1: Familiar Strangers**

The scorching sun hit the barren land's surface mercilessly making even the cobras, scorpions and other desert creatures take shelter in burrows and under rocks. A lone tall figure stood silently in the middle of the African sun-beaten land. The heat was such that anyone trying to drink from whatever container it was that they had brought with them to satisfy their thirst would find their drink had long since evaporated.

But the intense desert heat was the last thing in the man's (for it was a man what the figure was) mind. His only visible feature, a pair of brown eyes, seemed to hold a deep sadness and inner turmoil. The rest of his battle-worn features were hidden behind a crimson piece of cloth that was wrapped around his head that matched the long tunic he was wearing. Underneath this bright tunic he wore a pair of dark trousers and equally dark boots. Two really sharp-looking crossed swords adorned his back together with a quiver full of strangely decorated arrows. The thick black belt at his waist held a pair of throwing knives and a heavy looking axe. The grace and strength with which he held himself was that of a warrior, yet the emotions that ran across his eyes told of another impossibly different story.

As the man saw something he recognized as a falcon approaching him, the sadness in his eyes suddenly evaporated. In its place, an emotion that would have thrown even the most hardened men off their feet, except a certain Dark Lord. For in this stranger's eyes there was hope, the pure and undiluted hope anyone would expect to see in an innocent child.

The falcon landed on his extended arm and offered its leg so he could remove the load it carried. It was a rolled up piece of parchment that read:

_Dear Daniel:_

_I was so glad to receive your letter. I was about to trample my roommates here at Harvard. I don't know how I've managed to keep my vocabulary from changing into that of these crazy Yankees, but I have seemed to manage up to now._

_I was especially surprised at how we can keep doing this sibling-bond weird thing (it is still weird for me even after all this time, believe it or not) even while being so far away from each other. I received your letter just after I awoke from a dream, the very dream you wrote of. Five minutes later, Meg fire-called from Japan claiming that she had just experienced the very same dream-like vision._

_So it seems to me, my dear big brother that we have indeed found the one we have been looking for so long. I'll meet you at our normal place so we can come up with some plan to finally meet him. Meg will be coming with me too._

_Hope to see you soon._

_Love,_

_Anya _

Daniel smiled softly. It was good to hear from his younger sister, he hoped that her studies were coming along as she worked very hard on them. He wondered how _he_ was doing. Daniel frowned, from what he had seen in his dream, they needed to get to work really soon or all would be lost. With a sharp whistle, a handsome golden-coloured stallion appeared in front of him and he jumped on, disappearing in a cloud of dust. There was no time to waste.

Miles away, a young woman with auburn hair and mischievous brown eyes was packing her things. Nineteen year-old Meg was flooing to her sister's. She frowned thoughtfully. That dream had been too real-like, she was sure their search had finished. It just _had_ to be. Tears welled up in her eyes. She remembered him. Ever if she had only been three years old, she remembered him. His beautiful green eyes shining with laughter and innocence, his curious personality asking her anything he could with his adorable baby-talk… She missed him. Even after all these years, she missed him like hell.

She shut her eyes and breathed in deeply. She was awfully nervous. He had only been a year old, for Merlin's sake! He wouldn't remember anything before that terrible night… Still, maybe they could at least get close to him, if only a little.

She sighed as she grabbed her bag and hung it on her back. Taking a pinch of the Floo powder from the jar on top of the mantelpiece and stepping forward into the green fire, she called her destiny.

"ANYA'S PLACE!"

With a flash, she was gone….Only to stumble out of another fireplace and tripping on the carpet.

Cursing in fluent Japanese, and quite colourfully for a lady I might add; she stood and greeted her older sister, whose brown eyes were shining with amusement, with a scowl.

"It seems your Japanese is still as fluent as ever", Anya commented laughing.

"_Baka", _Meg muttered growling.

"Well, come on, Daniel should be arriving soon".

"No need to wait, I'm here", came a male voice from behind them.

Anya jumped, startled while Meg shot her fist at his face in surprise and winced as her prat of a brother got hit on the nose.

"Nice to see I'm still loved here", he growled holding his now bleeding nose.

"Well", Meg said smirking, "you did startle me. I _have _been training in martial arts you know."

"Yes", he said sarcastically as Anya healed his nose, "I can certainly see that, I'm not blind either, you know."

"Are too"

"Am not"

"Are too"

"Am not"

"Are too"

"Am not"

"Are too"

"Am not"

"Are not"

"Am too"

"Ha! Got you!"

Daniel grumbled something about crazy women and how they thought they were all perfect.

Anya spoke up before another spat began, "If you children are done", she said ignoring her siblings' glares; "we do have some business to attend".

At those words, the playful look in their eyes disappeared to be replaced by a serious look that betrayed their previous mood.

"Yes, we do."

It was a warm day in Little Whining, so unlike the previous summer, and the neighbors of Privet Drive were enjoying the day outdoors sipping iced tea or lemonade and sitting under the sun. Children were running about playing with water-filled balloons, water sprinklers or hoses. Everyone was happy that the summer holidays had finally arrived.

That is, everyone except a certain jet-black-haired teen sitting on his bed in a tiny room in Number Four, who didn't even seem to care of what was going outside his window.

Harry James Potter, son of the deceased James and Lily Potter, lay on his bed, thinking.

Ever since he had come back from the ceremony, Harry had only gotten worse and worse. He barely ate or slept, the nightmares he had every single night were beginning to take toll on him. He once again suffered from insomnia and the terrible things he saw Voldyshorts and his Death Munchers do in their so-called "games" left him so sick, he had long given up on even trying eating anything at all.

As a result, he was thinner than he had ever bee before, one could practically see his ribs poking out. He had black bags under his eyes. But it didn't finish there.

After the Order's threat at King Cross's station, Vernon Dursley had been so short tempered he had decided to ignore everyone. He even included Dudley in his silent treatment, which of course didn't suit his spoiled rotten son, who wasn't used to being ignored in the least.

That peace had suddenly stopped when Vernon's drill company had become broke and he became unemployed, thus taking on the habit of drinking… Vernon started beating Harry, again. Harry remembered the first beating he ever received only too well…

Flashback:

_A six-year-old Harry Potter had just come back from a walk around the park to avoid Dudley's gang. Harry frowned; he didn't like his cousin or his friends because they hit him every time they saw him. His aunt and uncle seemed to dislike him, too. He didn't understand why they were so mean or why they called him hurtful names like "freak" and "weirdo". He hadn't done anything bad, sure strange things happened to him but it wasn't his fault. It was as if they really did not love him. Once his kinder-garden teacher had scared him and, when she turned around, a bucket full of neon green paint had dropped on her head, seemingly appearing from out of nowhere. He had been locked in his cupboard for three days without any meals for that. His relatives seemed to think that everything was his fault when it really had been Dudley's and punished him for his grades even if he was top of his class._

_Harry didn't know the answer to his question, so he decided to risk asking his uncle._

_When he reached the kitchen table where his uncle sat, he asked:_

"_Uncle Vernon, do you love me?"_

_To his shock, his beefy uncle stood._

"_HOW DARE YO- YOU FREAK!" he yelled as he raised his hand and slapped him, hard. So hard in fact, Harry's cheek started swelling right there and then._

_But Harry had not even felt the sting until much later, he was shocked still._

_When he hadn't responded, his uncle had become even more enraged. _

_He threw the little boy to the floor and proceeded to give him a sound beating, all the while screaming insults and saying they wouldn't even care if he dropped dead in the middle of the living room unless he left his dirt in the white carpet._

_Tears flowed down Harry's cheeks until he blacked out…_

The beatings had stopped when he had started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but as his uncle got more and more drunk, they now became stronger. Harry now sported a black eye and a cut lip as well as several cuts and bruises in different parts of his body. He was quite sore but he thought he deserved everything he got. He shouldn't have been so stupid. _I should have continued with Occlumency lessons._ He thought morosely.

Even as he lay in his dingy little room, his thoughts weren't on the events of the past school term, but on the strange dreams he had been having. In his dreams he saw a man and two women who seemed to have found someone important to them. The strange thing was that the three of them seemed very familiar, as if he had known them very well in an earlier stage of his life.

_But that's impossible. I mean, come on Potter, you never had any social life before you started going to Hogwarts, unless…No… Could they be from when Mum and Dad were alive? Nah, that's just wishful thinking…_

He was brought back to reality when he heard a tap. He looked at the window and rolled his eyes. Really, couldn't they just leave him alone? He had just sent them the requested letter, which was more like a "line".

_Everybody:_

_I'm doing fine._

_HP_

Harry sighed as he let his faithful owl, Hedwig, in and closed the window before throwing the letter on top of his desk, where many more lay unopened. Hedwig hooted indignantly.

"Hey, don't give me that look. I'm not in the mood, O. K.?"

Hedwig ruffled her feathers angrily.

"Not you too…" Harry growled.

With that, he undressed himself and got ready for another long sleepless night.

**A/N: That's it for this chapter. I hope you like it. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Ch2: Awaking

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

Show time!

"**_What A Hero Needs"_**

**Chapter #2: Awaking**

_It was a stormy night. Lightning crackled in the dark sky and thunder rumbled. Rain poured down heavily and the ground was so muddy it looked like it would be impossible to walk through it. Animals, both magical and non-magical, hurried to find shelter from the rain. But it was not only the storm that caused the forest creatures to hide. There was something that stank of an evil so thick it could be felt in the air._

_This evil feeling could be tracked to the only human structure in the vast wilderness of the forest. Said structure was a fortress built with stone so black it would be invisible in the darkness of the night had it not been for an odd reddish light that could be seen when lightning lit the sky. As one walked closer and closer to the fortress, one discovered that the reddish tint wasn't the stone's colour. _

_It was blood… crimson blood that had been splashed as decoration by someone who took sick pleasure in doing it._

_The aforementioned 'someone' sat on a throne made of bones and skulls. His appearance was much like that of a demon. His pale skin looked unnaturally so, he was so thin it stretched tightly around his bones. Spidery fingers wrapped themselves around the throne's armrests. But none of these features was as terrifying as his eyes. His snake-like blood-red eyes shone with sick glee in the darkness. This creature, for he was so evil he simply could not be called a man, was Tom Marvolo Riddle a. k. a. Lord Voldemort, self-proclaimed Dark Lord. _

_Around him, his most trusted Death Eaters waited. This included the Lestranges, Nott Senior, Crabbe and Goyle senior, and Rosewood. The rest were in Askaban Prison. A short balding man was at his feet, shaking and panting in pain. Voldemort laughed as he finished his servant's punishment. Wormtail trembled in fear, that high-pitched laugh was so cold it caused even the bravest men to flee for their lives. The Dark Lord had been in such a rage at his Death Eaters' failure at the Department of Mysteries he had tortured every single one of them for over a week. But it suddenly stopped, which could only mean something…It meant he was planning something. Seeing as not even his Inner Circle knew what it was that he was planning, it was something big, really big. After two weeks of silence, he was now celebrating by torturing his servants once again._

"_My faithful followers, for a long time I've been planning on our next move," he said with a smirk, "I have been experimenting with the most… entertaining forms of magic"- here all the Death Eaters laughed, 'entertaining' really meant 'painful, dark and illegal' "- It seems that our little boy-who-lived has no protection left at his hiding place." Everyone's ears perked up at this._

"_Yes, my dear friends, I have found a way to take care of Harry Potter right under that Muggle-loving fool…" At this, cheers rose, Harry Potter, the thorn at their Lord's side, was going down for once and forever… and the Order would only be able to watch as their hero died at their Lord's hand…_

Harry woke with a start, his clothes sticking to his trembling body, wet in cold sweat. His scar throbbed with dull pain and he was gasping for breath. This dream had not been like the dreams he had had before, it had felt so real… almost too real to be a dream. _I knew that four dreamless nights were too good to be true. _He turned to his bedside table. The alarm clock he had repaired read four o'clock in the morning. He sighed, he knew there was no way he would be able to go back to sleep so he switched the light on and sat up on his bed. At least he had his books to entertain himself. After a week of sleeping less than four hours a day, Harry had gotten so bored he decided to do his homework and finished it in record time.

Harry crouched and pushed his secret compartment underneath the loose planks, (where he kept his wand, invisibility cloak, album…) picked up _the_ book and began to read as he remembered the day he had found it…

Flashback:

Harry had been sitting around ('wallowing in self pity' as he later told his friends) his small room when it happened. After having finished his summer homework in three nights and a half (which just had to be a record), he was bored, bored and restless. Not a good combination when you are locked up in a room for all summer. It was not a good combination at all.

Finally, Harry couldn't stand it anymore and kicked his trunk (which he had sworn not to touch ever again) open. He just hadn't been able bear to even see the pieces of the accursed shattered mirror Sirius had given him. But desperate times call for desperate measures and he had had enough of this restlessness, so he opened his trunk and proceeded to grab every book he had in there.

Then he saw it. It was a thick handsome looking leather-bound book with no title. It was an almost golden-brown colour with strange patterns engraved in gold across the cover and it looked_ really _old. It even looked ancient_. 'In fact' _he had thought,_ 'it feels ancient'_. Curious as to how that strange book had ended up among his schoolbooks, Harry opened the book and began reading. It turned out to be about the subject Harry now realized he needed the most to keep going. It was about Occlumency…

As he read the first chapter of the mysterious tome, Harry found some information that changed his whole perspective towards the trip to the Department of Mysteries and his beloved godfather's death. It read:

'_Occlumency is the art of hiding one's true thoughts and feelings behind a 'wall' or 'barrier' in order to keep secrets, emotions, knowledge and memories safe from intruders, such as Mind-Readers, Empaths and Legimens. _

_Before you keep reading, dear reader, I must warn you that very, VERY few wizards have a mind strong enough to survive a mental attack from an experienced Legimens, least of all a mental possession, unscathed. In fact, many have ended up insane or dead. As such, I have placed a very powerful spell on the contents of this book so that ONLY those with the strength of mind required to master this art will be able to read it._

_This means that seeing as you are able to read this book with no problems you are most probably going to be able to become a Master Occlumens. As such, there is nothing else left for me to say except that I wish you the best of luck in your mastering.'_

After reading some more, Harry growled. "It seems that certain overgrown-greasy-haired-hooked-nosed-sniveling-good-for-nothing-git of a Potions Master didn't teach me anything regarding the subject… anything at all. In fact, the only thing he did was weakening me even more!"

By the end of his rant, Harry was fuming. He vowed to himself that he would stand no more of whatever Snape threw at him this coming year. _If he wants me to act as an arrogant__ git like James Potter, he'll get what he wants… multiplied by ten._

An evil looking smile crossed Harry's features as his eyes started shining mischievously. This year was could turn out to be quite interesting.

"…And the Marauders shall wreck havoc once again…

Watch out Hogwarts, here I come!"

End of flashback

That had been two weeks ago. Since then, Harry had decided to practice the techniques that helped him master Occlumency twice everyday for one hour. One of these techniques was meditation.

'_Meditation is a way to focus one's mind; it can also help in dealing with deep stress. To reach the meditative 'deep phase', you relax you body by sitting in a comfortable position and concentrating solely on your breathing or heartbeat. One must learn how to reach this last phase almost immediately before trying to force their selves to build any kind of barriers or walls around their mind…'_

After many attempts, Harry found that he could reach the stage where he was aware of everything around him. The sound of birds singing outside, the feel of the gentle wind that came through his open window and the smell of his aunt's cooking. He swore he had once been able to feel the presence of one of his 'babysitters' as they shuffled their feet and tripped. It had probably been Tonks. He also found that with each re-reading of any of his books while in this stage, he understood the theory behind every spell, hex, charm, and jinx he had ever studied at school in a way he had never done before. He even understood those which he had always had trouble with even in his fifth year. He was sure he could perform every one of them perfectly but he didn't want to risk going through another trial.

He noticed he had become more careful, not to the point of being paranoid but he was always on his guard. _My Slytherin side is coming out… Maybe it's not so bad after all._

Harry had been having a strange feeling since his godfather's so-called 'memorial'. He felt like something deep inside him had snapped, though he hadn't cared about it at first, since he had thought that it had been his anger at Dumbledore for having kept him in the dark. But now, Harry noticed, it felt more like a barrier he had never known was there had suddenly been broken. He frowned thoughtfully. Maybe, just maybe…

Harry closed his eyes and tried to reach his magical core while in meditative state. According to the book, once he reached the 'deep' phase, he had to do it just as what he _sensed_ was the right way to do it. He wanted to know what the thing that had snapped inside him that day was, so he followed his instincts. He looked deep inside himself and once he found himself floating in the familiar black void, he set to finding his core.

What he saw left him speechless.

There, deep within what he believed was his core, was a blindingly white light that appeared to be flowing out of a sickly green sphere that had previously contained it. Harry instinctively knew that the sickly green sphere was the Killing Curse he had survived so many years ago. As he approached, he felt the white light, his own magic, react to his presence and float gently towards him.

As the light bathed him in warmth, Harry felt complete. In fact, he felt as if something that was missing had finally been returned to him.

He opened his eyes and smiled, really smiled for the first time in quite a long time. _I think I now know why I had such a hard time at school with some of the basic charms and spells. The Killing Curse must have blocked me from reaching my true potential…But now I feel restless… I should find an activity other than studying for the rest of the summer…Hmmm...Maybe I should try to talk with my uncle…._ He snorted mirthlessly…_ That is, if I can say anything before he starts his sadistic games with me. I think Aunt Petunia might be a better choice…'_

As he planned, Harry realized he had finally pulled himself together and that neither Cedric's nor Sirius's deaths nor the prophesy hurt as much as they did all of a sudden. It was as if he were starting to learn how to cope with his burdens, and he felt a bit proud at the fact that he had done it without anyone's help. Well, except, maybe the book, but it wasn't as if it was a living being, was it? Harry chuckled as he stood. The sun had come up, it was a new day and he had some letters to read and reply to. He sighed. This was not going to be easy, being stuck in the middle of the impending war, but he had to start somewhere and see how things turned out from there.

Little did he know that, just as he set to work, a group of black-hooded figured had begun to appear in his relative's front lawn. Neither did he know that his whole life was about to twist and turn up-side down.

**A/N: I know this chapter is short but I hope you people like it. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Ch3: Fleeing the Dursleys'

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

"**_What a Hero Needs"_**

**Chapter #3: Fleeing the Dursleys'**

An eerie silence fell on Privet Drive as a sudden mist crept all over the place; it was as if it had appeared out of nowhere. Children ran back to their houses and everyone shut their doors and windows just as strange people cloaked in black and wearing white masks popped out of thin air. All had their hoods drawn, hiding all features in shadows.

As the cloaked figures advanced, they each drew a stick from their pockets and started mumbling gibberish. As flashes of colourful lights coming out of said sticks hit anyone unfortunate enough as to not be able to get out of the way, screams broke the silence… and hell broke loose…Death Eaters had turned Privet Drive into their playground.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Harry was snapped out of his musings as soon as the screams had begun. He ran towards his window and gasped. There were about fifty or so Death Eaters advancing menacingly towards Number Four, all while having their sick way with innocent passersby. _How did they find me? I thought there were wards around here…_ Realization hit him hard as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He wanted to kick himself for his stupidity…_There are no wards! How could I have forgotten? HE has MY blood since that bloody ritual._ After all this time and Dumbledore had apparently forgotten that the megalomaniac could have entered Privet Drive without any trouble!

As all this had registered in his mind in mere seconds, Harry rushed back to his bed and threw everything he had into his trunk, not caring if something broke. There was no time. As he picked his most valuable possessions from the loose floorboards under his bed and tied the emergency letter he had written the night before to Hedwig's leg, a sudden thought came ford, unbidden,_ 'Where are the Babysitters? Wasn't it Dung's shift now? They should have been here now, unless…_No, he would sort his sudden thoughts later, now he had to get out of the current mess. Not even realizing what he was doing, he waved his hand and his trunk shrunk. He silently led Hedwig to the window and she flew out swiftly, sensing her master's urgency.

Just as he turned to put his hand on the doorknob, a horrible scream pierced through the air, and it was close…very close. The young man paled…It was his Aunt Petunia. Harry felt trapped. True, he had never liked his relatives at all, but he certainly didn't HATE them. No one deserved to suffer under de Cruciatus Curse. He had to do something before it was too late... Just then, several voices shouted.

"AVEDA KEDAVRA!"

It was too late. They were dead now, his only remaining family, all gone.

But he had promised himself he would keep going. _And that's exactly what I'm doing now._ He got hold of his wand and crept out of his room silently. He suspected they had attacked so suddenly because they thought he would still be mourning his godfather's death, and thus, in a weak state of mind. How wrong they were.

The sound of voices floated up the stairs as Harry got ready to defend his neck if needed be.

"Too bad they were so easy to scare" a male voice said as Harry sneaked a look down the stairs through the rail. It was Lucius Malfoy! _Fudge's got to be the most incompetent power-hungry fool I've had the pleasure to meet. How did he get freed? _

"Perhaps the Potter boy will provide more entertainment," a second one said and Harry could almost see his gleeful smile.

"Shut your trap idiots! We can not afford to kill him," a female voice snapped. Harry growled. He could recognize that sickly-sweet voice anywhere.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

His insides boiled. Oh, no, he wouldn't let her get to him, not this time He stood and descended the stairs as silently as he could. But his plans to remain unnoticed until the last possible moment were foiled. _Oh, bugger, _he thought. The floorboards had creaked under his weight. His so-called-kidnappers-to-be turned their heads towards the noise so fast that he wondered if they had made him the favor of snapping their own necks for him.

Wand at ready, the young man watched as Bellatrix smiled evilly.

"Well, it seems our job is done gentlemen," she mocked, "Is ickle-Harry-poo sad? Do you miss your mutt?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "At least I don't kiss the hem of a stupid, hypocrite half-blooded snake-face, do I Lestrange?" he spat.

"How dare you!" she screeched while throwing a volley of curses in his direction.

Harry ducked and answered with his own spells, all while moving around to avoid Malfoy's and the unknown dead eater's attacks.

"STUPEFY!" The power behind the spell was so strong that the dead eater was thrown across the room, crashing against the wall. He was down.

"HELIOS!" Harry had found the spell in one of his Defense books. It caused the victim to feel as if blinded by the sun. Two more went down.

He sensed someone sneaking behind him. Before the stalker could utter a word, the teen's fist connected to his nose.

CRACK! The man howled in pain just as Harry threw a punch at his stomach, winding him. _That's one less to worry about, _he thought as he kept dueling.

As the battle continued, Harry began to tire. For each he took down, two more seemed to take his place. Harry knew he wouldn't last much longer.

He was so focused on a particularly large death eater he didn't hear Bellatrix come from behind.

EXPELIARMUS!

Just as his wand flew out of his hand, another death eater punched him in the stomach, bringing him down. Harry struggled to get to his feet.

He saw his wand mere feet away from where he fell and scrambled to his feet, only to find a boot standing on his hand.

CRACK! Harry screamed. His hand had been crushed.

"Who's the winner, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I am making you pay for putting me in hell." Harry's head snapped, his eyes shining with determination.

"You are the one paying for your own mistakes, _Mr. Malfoy_," he bit out. "Tell me, was your snake faced Master proud of your failure?"

"YOU INSOLENT PRAT! HOW DARE YOU!" Harry's cheek suddenly felt numb. Malfoy Senior had slapped him.

Harry looked around. He was done for, and he knew it. The odds were against him and he was wandless. He watched as every death eater raised his wand at him. He almost snorted._ Now that's flattering. Thirty fully grown up wizards against a defenseless boy and not one dares to act on their own. And I'm supposed to be weak? _The fact that he was about to be tortured and most probably killed abruptly hit home and he snapped. _If I'm going to go, then I'll do it standing firm...like mum and dad did. Now, hold on a second, Potter! Are you giving up so easily? Oh no, I don't think so! _ The death eaters watched in amazement as a blazing fire, one that had not been in Harry's dull eyes before, suddenly lit up. Bright emerald eyes shone as he gazed at his enemies as if daring them to act on whatever means they had planned. Now they realized that they were not fighting with a little lost boy… Harry Potter was pissed and he was not a man to mess with. He proceeded to summon his wand with a wave of his hand and started to hex every single Death Muncher in his way. No longer did he care whether the Minister expelled him or not. He would not stand down anymore.

Not one of them had time to counterattack because, just as Harry stood up, an explosion rocked the whole household and a tall figure dressed in a crimson cloak appeared among the flying debris. Power flowed out of him in waves along with something else…Anger.

The dark wizards paled. A single thought crossed their minds.

_Oh, shit._

_°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°_

Daniel was angry. No, he was furious. How dare these wizards harm him? How dare that old man assume Harry was safe with his aunt and uncle? They hated, loathed and abhorred anything related to magic. They refused to even acknowledge Lily Potter as part of their family when they found she was a witch, for Merlin's sake! _I hope the Bumblebee has a REAL explanation for this or I swear he will be meeting the edge of my sword._

He threw himself at the death eaters, slashing and thrusting as he went. He struggled not to gape at the sight of the young man he had been searching for so long and kept fighting. He had had a feeling that Harry would be in bad shape but he hadn't expected this. Even if he looked very weak, Harry fought fiercely and many fell.

The teen was too short for his age, something that would be fixed as soon as he went through his Coming. The fact that he could count his ribs if the boy weren't wearing clothes in which he seemed to float in and that he was covered in welts and bruises shocked Daniel to the core. Hopefully, Anya would be able to fix right up with that Nurturing Potion she had come up with in her endeavours. _How does the boy, no, young man, manage?_ Daniel shook his head and focused on the matter at hand. He would think about that later.

The battle lasted about an hour. It stopped as soon as the death eater realized they were outclassed and disapparated. _Just like the cowards they really are. _Daniel turned around to see a panting Harry Potter staring at him before saying:

"You're the one… from my dreams…" He then collapsed, lack of sleep, blood loss and magical exhaustion finally catching up with him.

Daniel ran towards the young wizard as soon as he saw him swaying and caught him before he fell. He smiled gently.

"Time to take you home, young Inferno."

With a flick of his wand, Harry's possessions were packed and shrunk. With one last look at the former battlefield, Daniel stalked out of the house, leaving behind only a bunch of mutilated bodies. Including the ones belonging to the now deceased residents.

As the stranger's cloak swished, Harry Potter disappeared from Privet Drive number four, never to return again.

**A/N: DONE!!! I hope you like it, there are only a few details I corrected but I hope you like it.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!**


	5. Ch4: A Lending Hand part1

**A/N:** Hey people! I'm back!!!

**Lady Rayvyanne:** Thank you!!! This chapter is for you. I hope you enjoy it.

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

IT'S SHOWTIME!!!!

"**_What a Hero Needs"_**

**Chapter #4: A Lending Hand (part 1)**

Just as the stranger disappeared, multiple pops were heard. Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had arrived a second too late.

Their eyes widened as they saw the mess that Number Four had become. There was absolutely nothing left, everything had been destroyed. The ceiling looked as if it were about to collapse, the walls were blackened and charred and the furniture had been blown up into pieces. Tonks, as clumsy as she was, tripped over something and looked back to see what she had accidentally stepped on …and screamed. As soon as the other members saw what had made her screamed, they paled… There, mutilated to the point of being unrecognizable, lay Petunia, Vernon and Dudley Dursley, all dead.

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_Several minutes before…_

Albus Dumbledore had been in his office doing paperwork when a strange sphere-like gadget on top of one of the shelves started to spin and whirl madly, emitting a noise that sounded awfully close to that of a hag's screech. He suddenly felt sick. For with that alarm, came the worst... Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, had been attacked.

Quicker than any other man his age could ever be, the Headmaster stood and rushed to the fireplace, throwing Floo powder into the fire as he went.

"MINERVA MCGONAGALL'S OFFICE!"  
As soon as Professor McGonagall saw his grim face, she knew something had gone terribly wrong.

"Albus? What happened?"

"Minerva, if you could please gather the Order," seeing her questioning look, he added, "It seems Privet Drive has been attacked."

Blanching, McGonagall proceeded to follow his request, hoping against hope that nothing too horrible had happened to one of her best students (though she would deny it if anyone asked).

_Present time…_

Now, as they watched the destruction that the Death Eaters had left behind, Albus Dumbledore and the Order realized that they were too late. Suddenly, Remus Lupin, who had not spoken a word since the loss of his only remaining friend and brother, snapped his head up.

"Harry!"

He ran up the stairs and stopped short upon sensing a coppery smell, blood…Harry's blood. Letting out an anguished cry that snapped the rest out of their daze, Remus opened the door where he sensed Harry's smell was stronger.

He was met with a sight he would never forget.

The room was tiny. The sheets, floor and walls were covered in dry blood and the window was boarded up. He whimpered, over the past few years he had known Harry, he had often heard the young man (for he had come to realize he was no boy) Harry had always tried to avoid going back to the Dursleys claiming that they _hated _him, only to be ignored and sent back to them again. He now knew why he had said that… it had all been true.

Behind Lupin, the rest of the Order members gaped at the conditions the Boy-Who-Lived had been forced to live in. A single thought ran through all their minds.

_We failed him…again._

Nobody saw the painful expressions of two of their members. Albus Dumbledore's eyes no longer shined with the twinkle he was known for, but with tears of shame and pain. _Oh, Merlin! I left him here against his will even though he gave me more than enough reasons… Why did I ignore Lily's warnings? I should have checked on him …_

Beside him, Severus Snape, ex-death-eater, Potions Master, spy for the Light and the man who hated James and Harry Potter with a passion, watched in shock and disbelieve as the gentle werewolf crumpled to the floor in tears. _Potter lived here? _He just couldn't believe it. He had thought the brat was as spoiled and arrogant as his father had been because of his fame but here he was, in the same brat's room, and he was utterly horrified. _What so-called human being could do this to a child? Why didn't anyone see the signs? Why didn't I see them?_ The unusually short stature, the "apparent" shyness, and the lack of a healthy appetite… they had all been signs of the terrible abuse Harry Potter had been going through since his parents' death.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

_Some time later, many miles away…_

Harry opened his eyes and found himself floating in black nothingness. There was a feeling of calmness and security in the empty void; it was as if there was nothing to worry about. There was no homework, no nightmares or visions, no expectations and, most importantly, no war and certainly no Voldemort. He closed his eyes again, determined to stay in the peaceful blackness forever.

Of course, with his luck, it was not to be as he wanted.

"Wake up, Child."

Once more, Harry opened his eyes.

There, standing in front of him, surrounded by a soft light, stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Dressed in an off-white sleeveless gown that reached past her ankles, the timeless-looking woman smiled lovingly at him.

Harry gasped as realization flooded over him. He could barely believe what his eyes were seeing, but his heart was screaming at him, telling him it was true. He just _knew _remembered that face smiling down at him when he was very little, her long auburn curls falling like a curtain to protect him from the rest of the world.

It was her face that he saw every night in his dreams and nightmares… It was the face of his mother, Lily Potter.

"Mum?" He asked in shock.

Lily's smile grew.

The next thing the dark haired young wizard knew was that he was wrapped in his mother's arms, sobbing as she consoled him. He cried for all that he had suffered, for all those he had lost, for his friends, his godfather and for the parents he never had the chance to meet. But most of all, for the first time in his life, Harry Potter cried for himself, he cried for the pain he had felt when his aunt called him "freak" and for the fear he always felt when his uncle struck down at him with his belt, yelling at him for the most insignificant mistake he made or for having better grades than Dudley. He cried for the loneliness he had been left in when no one dared to become his friend or even talk to him for fear of being rejected and bullied by his cousin's gang. He cried for the fate a monster called Lord Voldemort had thrust upon him.

"Mum, I just can't go on!" He sobbed, "Why did it have to be me? I'm only fifteen! Couldn't it have been a grown-up man who really knows what he is doing?"

His mother smiled sadly, "No my son, you were the Chosen One... There is something about you that made Voldemort fear you."

Harry looked up, surprised to see that his father and godfather had joined his mother.

"Even though you have never known love, you seem to love everyone around you, no matter their circumstances. You are the one who _can _defeat him." James Potter hugged his tormented son.

"But- H-How?"

Sirius Black pointed at the teen's heart, "We will always be with you, even if we are dead."

"By the way, my child," continued Lily, "You are no longer fifteen…"

"WHAT?!!" Harry's eyes almost popped out of its sockets.

"Just how long have I been here?"

The three adults' eyes shined with amusement at his shock.

"You've been unconscious for almost two weeks. That means you are sixteen tonight. We are able to be here with you, in-between worlds, because we are to guide you through your Coming of Age."

"Coming of Age? What is that?" The young man asked, sensing the capitalization of the term. His question was met with silence.

At first, his parents and godfather looked shocked. But then, their expressions turned into anger. James and Sirius looked as if they couldn't even talk if they tried. It was Lily Potter who broke the awkward silence.

"HE NEVER TOLD YOU??!!" Harry understood who she was talking about. He shook his head.

"Told me what, Mum?"

By then, the beautiful red-headed woman was shaking in anger.

"THAT'S IT!" she burst out furiously, "Albus Dumbledore, I swear you will be wishing you had never met me by the time I'm done with you!"

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk back at Hogwarts, deep in thought. _Where has Harry disappeared to? I hope he's fine, he just has to be .He is the one I need for my plans at defeating Tom once and for all. Only then can I succeed. _He frowned.

It is true that Albus Dumbledore was currently the most powerful and well-known wizard in the wizarding world, but what nobody knew was that he really wasn't the grandfatherly old man he seemed to be. No, Albus Dumbledore was a manipulator, an expert at transforming every situation into a chess match without anyone noticing. Blue eyes suddenly shined with unsuppressed anger. _And my Queen piece has just disappeared right under my nose._

While he was muttering and cursing under his breath, the Chief Warlock never realized that his manipulations had finally been noticed… by none other that his most important pawn, his Queen piece, otherwise known as Harry Potter and his deceased parents, who guarded him even after death.

The Headmaster felt a sudden chill and turned around to see weather the window was open. _How odd, it is closed. Wonder why it is cold all of a sudden…_ The ancient wizard did not have to wonder for long because as he turned around, he found himself facing an angry-no, a furious-looking spirit that resembled someone he knew far too much to be comfortable.

Dumbledore gulped nervously, something he had not done in ages. When Lily Potter was mad, the saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" could not be ignored, and for the first time in his life, Albus Dumbledore realized he had really messed up.

_Oh, shit._

It was a beautiful day outside. Too bad a certain Headmaster wouldn't be able to enjoy it. Who ever said no one could ever give one of the greatest wizards of the time a proper dressing-down? It seemed as if a certain pretty red-headed spirit had been able to do just that…

**A/N: Hope you like it! Please review!**


	6. Ch5: A Lending Hand part2

**A/N:** HEY PEOPLE!! on hands and knees (begging) I´M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SOOOO LONG. ( I HATE writer's block, by the way…)

I finished reading "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"… in three days!!…. I absolutely loved it!!!

Anyway, I promised myself I would finish this fanfic no matter what, so here it goes…. I hope you like it.

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

IT'S SHOWTIME!!!!

"_**What a **__**Hero Needs**__**"**_

**Chapter #5: A Lending Hand (part 2)**

**Previously…**

_It was a beautiful day outside. Too bad a certain Headmaster wouldn't be able to enjoy it. Who ever said a very pretty red-headed ghost couldn't give one of the greatest wizards of the time a proper dressing-down? _

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Harry gaped at the spot where his mother had been standing an instant ago, muttering something that sounded like "meddling old goatish chess player", only for her to reappear seconds later wearing a satisfied smirk.

James recovered from his shock and said, "Harry, the Coming of Age is one of the most important experiences in any witch's or wizard's life. Dumbledore should have told you about it the day you heard our will—

"Will? What will?" Harry interrupted, clearly confused as to what his father was talking about.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter now looked not only furious; they looked downright hurt and indignant, but their features softened as they gazed at their beloved son. Lily's eyes shined with unshed tears, "Oh, my baby boy, you were supposed to have been read our will on your 11th birthday…" she paused as her only child began muttering curses under his breathe. Whether or not he realized it, Harry James Potter had already become a very handsome young man. _Perhaps even more so than his father, he's certainly going to break some hearts this year, _Lily thought. Her son had had his growth stunted by her so-called sister, but that would soon be fixed. Harry's hair had grown but kept its untidiness (or, as all girls called it, devil-may-care hair-do) and his body had finally lost its awkward stage. All those years of running from Dudley and his gang, of doing every chore in the Dursley residence and playing Quidditch had paid off; all that even before his Coming.

James took up where his wife had left off, "It seems that the Headmaster didn't pay any heed to our last wishes. He was in charge of explaining everything to you, but apparently he has already begun to do things _for the greater good_," sarcasm was clearly evident in Potter Senior's voice, "In doing so, he started seeing people as chess pieces or, in your case, as the ultimate weapon or scapegoat." Harry scowled at this, "And I realized that too late," he mumbled, "So… What _IS_ the Coming of Age?" he asked curiously.

The ex-convict answered in a teacher-like voice so unlike his own, that Harry had to bite his cheek to stop himself from snickering, "The Coming of Age is the process that every witch and wizard goes through when the blocks parents or Aurors place on a baby for their protection fall down. This happens when a witch's or wizard's power reaches its peak, or as some say, reaches maturity. Most of the time, the Coming happens when the wizard (or witch) is around 25 to 30 years old. The younger the one involved is, the more powerful they become. People say Merlin's Coming happened when he was seventeen going on eighteen and Dumbledore's and Riddle's at 20—"

Harry's eyes widened and his jaw almost hit the floor. He stared at his parents and godfather, expecting his father and godfather (being the pranksters they were) to yell 'April's Fool!'… But they didn't, nor were they going to.

"B—but, I'm just Harry," he stuttered, "H—how can it be?" His family smiled at him proudly and, much to their amusement, he groaned "Why can't I ever be _normal_?"

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Anya took the cloth she had placed on the young man's burning forehead and soaked it with cool water in a bowl she has placed on the bedside table. She bit her lower lip worriedly. It had been three weeks since Harry had fallen into a coma and he only seemed to get worse.

'_Reminds me of Daniel's Coming, but these seems much worse. Plus, he still needs to heal from his injuries. Oh God, please let him be alright…He is too young…' _The frown marring her beautiful face deepened. When she had seen the results from the diagnosis, to say she had been shocked would be the understatement of the century. She had been appalled. Not only did the raven haired teen have wounds from the battle, but even before that, Harry had injuries all over his body, all in different stages of healing. The worst part of it was that he had not received any treatment and most of them were in risk of being infected. Daniel had told her— still dazed after seeing the way Harry fought on his own— all about the battle at Privet Drive and Anya was amazed at the fact that such a spirited young man had held on his own against three of the best trained Death Eaters despite being undernourished and wounded at the time and survived.

Realizing that his stomach would reject anything he ate due to starvation, she had prepared a very large batch of her Nourishment Potion and injected it through I.V. twice a day. This was in hopes of being able to really feed him (fatten him really) as soon as he woke up. That seemed to be working, at least.

Her musings were interrupted when the door was knocked.

She turned around as two familiar heads peeked through the semi-opened double doors and smiled gently while pressing a finger to her mouth, indicating that they could enter quietly.

"How is he doing?" Daniel asked as he watched her tend to Harry's wounds. His sister sighed, "Not good," she replied as she changed the bloody bandages wrapped around her patient's chest and abdomen for clean ones. "Some of his wounds, such as the broken arm and twisted ankle, were easily healed. The bruises he sported throughout his body are already healed too. Unfortunately, I had to remove and re-grow all the bones in his right hand because they were shattered beyond healing and his chest, back and legs are still full of lacerations in various stages of healing. Those could also be healed if it weren't for the fact that his body seems to reject any treatment. It's as if he were surrounded by a shield of some kind."

"Isn't his magic supposed to help along with the healing?" asked Meg, "I mean, isn't that why magical people can endure more pain than the non-magical?"

"Yes," the nurse said, "And that is what's worrying me. His magical reserves were depleted and Harry has not recovered from it yet, so all we will have to wait—"

"But— I mean—He's been unconscious for nearly a month and _his _wi—"

"I know that, Dan. He must be there, but there's nothing more I can do. He'll have to wake up on his own."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

_Meanwhile, in the Burrow…_

They say that red hair means temper, right? Well, that could not be denied for a certain Molly Weasley at the moment.

"WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN GONE?! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF HIM!"

Albus Dumbledore stared wide-eyed at the Weasley matriarch, speechless. He had never thought of the real closeness between the family and the raven-haired boy they had taken in five years before to please one of their children. He once again wondered why Harry Potter was more than just a name to these people…

As the headmaster contemplated his actions, he never realized that he was not alone in the kitchen any more. The rest of the usually kind woman's family had joined the matronly lady and the wizened wizard and they were also staring in amazement. No one had ever pictured Molly Weasley raging at _the _Albus Dumbledore.

"You know what, Albus?" Molly said grim-faced, "If you really think he'll be fine, then you really haven't paid him any heed. You really don't know what he's gone through… And, no, I DON'T mean just at Hogwarts." She added as she saw him open his mouth to protest (politely, of course).

The old wizard stared, befuddled.

The plump witch straightened. " So, you give me no other choice, Albus…" her voice turned steel-cold, "I, Molly Anne Weasley, therefore ban Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore from entering the Burrow until he has proven himself to have taken complete responsibility of his actions concerning one Harry James Potter. So spoken, so mote it be."

As soon as Molly Weasley's last words left her lips, Albus Dumbledore found himself dropping on top of his desk at Howarts in a rather undignified manner, a shocked look still etched on his wizened face.


	7. Ch6: Of Love and Friendship

**A/N:** HEY EVERYONE!! * On hands and knees (begging)* I´M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SOOOO LONG!!! (I HATE writer's block, by the way…) By the way, I'm really sorry to say that my updates will probably be even slower because I've just entered college… more or less. I am currently on vacation form my first semester in History. It was lots of fun and I really learned a lot!

**Elfwyn**: Thanks for your criticism, but you must wait for me to answer your questions. They are, after all, one of the main parts of the plot. I will only give you one clue: In my story, Harry wasn't born soon after James and Lily Potter married. As for Molly Weasley's role, you'll find out in this chapter.

**Heroine of the Valley**: Thanks for your tips, they really helped.

I would also like to thank **the two-way mirror**, **Saitron Prince**, **Lady Rayvynne**, and **Sarmatianknaghtwannabe** for their reviews. They keep me wanting to update.

This chapter is for all of you, my wonderfully curious reviewers, in thanks for your Reviews… and a very belated Christmas and New Year's present.

**Key:**

"……" speech

…_stuff…: _thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

_Stuff_…written stuff

Off we go!

"_**What a **__**Hero Needs**__**"**_

**Chapter #5: ****Of Love and Friendship**

Ron rushed up the stairs and into his bedroom. The room was as brightly coloured as always, walls painted Chudley Canon's orange, his beat-up mattress pushed against the far corner and his dirty clothes form the day before were still on the floor. He sat at the battered desk that had once belonged, as did many of his other possessions, to some great uncle, and began writing a long and heartfelt letter (A/N: Unusual for a guy with an "emotional range of a teaspoon," I know, but Ron is most certainly NOT emotionless. Otherwise, he would not be Harry's best friend.):

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know you've been very worried about Harry, so you are the first one I thought to write to. Mum says she needs to have some sort of meeting with all those of us who are really close to __Harry; she says it is extremely important…I think she knows something of whatever we always felt Harry kept hidden from us._

_I feel Harry will need us now more than ever, sis… _

Moments later, a beautiful brunette with curly hair that reached way past her shoulders read through one of her best friend's rushed, almost illegible, scrawl. As she read, her honey-coloured eyes widened. Once finished, she jumped up and ran downstairs and into the kitchen. The room's walls were painted a very light blue. The floor was tiled in blue and white to match the white countertops and cupboards and blue kitchenware. In one side of the room, Dr. and Dr. Granger sat at the table drinking tea. They both smiled warmly as they saw their only child enter the kitchen, only to meet the troubled look that marred her face.

"Hermione? Is there something wrong, sweetie?" Emma Granger's voice gave her concern away. The smart young witch sighed, she had always dreaded revealing every single detail of the magical world's to her parents, fearing they would take her away, were she would never see her boys again.

"Mum, Dad… There are some things you should know, things that I should have told you about from the very beginning. I know you'll probably be scared or angry, but please let me explain, O. K.?"

Her parents exchanged worried glances. Why did she seem so scared of their reaction toward whatever she said she had kept from them? They had always known Hermione wouldn't be able to reveal a lot of her experiences in the Wizarding World because of the laws that the Ministry followed, so why was she so concerned? David reached for her hand across the table and spoke gently.

"Why are you so scared, Hermione? We are your parents, honey. We'll listen to you no matter what because we love you unconditionally." He stood to crouch beside her and wiped the tears she hadn't even realized were spilling down her face with his thumb before hugging her tightly.

"Never forget that, my little princess," he added.

Hermione smiled tearfully at her childhood nickname, which made reference to her favorite movie's title. She had been five years old when an older cousin of hers had invited her to watch the film. Poor Hermione had so been deeply affected by the almost-orphaned-slave-little-girl's story, she had burst out in tears when, two days afterwards, her own daddy had said he was leaving on a business trip…

Flashback:

"_Please, daddy," little five-year-old__ Hermione Granger cried while hugging her daddy's leg tightly, "Don't leave me, don't go and die." Her father, shocked at his daughter's demeanor, tried calming her down for a few moments and asked her what had made her cry. More tears, stutters and an explanation later, he laughed out loud and said in a gentlemanly voice:_

"_Little Princess Hermione has nothing to worry about. I'll come back in three days." _

_He had then kissed her forehead and left. The following days had been unending for little Hermione, so when he had returned calling out__:_

"_Honey, lit__tle princess, I'm home!" As soon as she heard him call, his daughter ran and swang her tiny arms around his neck crying:_

"_Daddy, Daddy! You're back!"_

_The endearment had stuck since then._

End of flashback

The small family was now sitting in the living room, which was very homey and cozy, yet simple and understatedly elegant. Oak floorboards were hidden under a large deep blue carpet with ivy green decorations. The couch and sofa were a beautiful velvety dark blue with matching off-white and green pillows and a mantelpiece decked with family portraits and photographs decorated the fireplace. Hermione shook her head as if to clear it and took deep breaths as her parents took each of her hands while sitting besides her, keeping her between them.

Drawing another deep breath, the young woman began her story:

"I'm sorry I kept this a secret. I was afraid you wouldn't understand."

"But, why?" her mother asked, deeply concerned.

"I feared that you would take me away from Hogwarts and the Wizarding World," Hermione said. She then proceeded to tell them everything about Hogwarts and the adventures she had had with her two best friends as well as Harry's situation, surprising herself when she found it easier as her story continued. When she finished, her mother had tears running down her cheeks, while hr father sat stiffly, face pale and hands clenched tightly on his lap. They couldn't believe her daughter had gone through all that because people refused to act upon something. They may have had met Harry only shortly, but even then, they had seen the boy's gentle disposition and demeanor shine through, leaving them enamoured with him. They couldn't believe how such a loving young man could have gone through what he had at such a young age, and still be as kind and open-hearted as he was.

Silence reigned for several minutes until David finally calmed down enough so he could speak.

"You mean to tell us that Harry may probably have had an abused childhood and nobody even noticed? He went through all that trouble because there was no adult who even bothered to stop to listen to his concerns because 'he was too young to understand'? " By the end of this, both mother and daughter were staring in shock as David Granger became so furious his eyes popped out and his face turned a nasty red as veins throbbed in his temples. They had never seen him so mad. Hermione's chest constricted, she could almost feel how her heart swelled at her dad's anger and indignation _for _her best friend, for Harry's wellbeing.

It took several moments for David to calm down enough to be able to speak coherently.

"In that case, Princess, you have all our support," he smiled gently as Hermione threw herself at him, crying joyfully.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou." Her mutterings brought a chuckle to her parents' lips. David cleared his throat and laughed at his child's blush. "We will come with you and see if there is anything we can do. Just because we are not magical does not mean we can't do something to help the young fellow."

Emma stepped in, tears still flowing down her cheeks as she smiled beautifully while her husband held her.

"Harry is a really charming young man. I never told you so, but I am really happy that you found yourself such an incredible friend," she grabbed the witch's shoulder and squeezed it lovingly as she continued, "I've always been afraid that you wouldn't be happy after the children from around town seemed to reject you, sweetie. It hurt me so much to see you lonely."

Hermione squealed happily as she hugged her parents tightly in a three-way embrace. They stayed like that for a very long time, silent and enjoying the peaceful moment, before they separated as the Gryffindor asked:

"So… Where do we start before leaving for the Burrow?"

_The Burrow, Friday 10:00 a. m…_

In all its years of existence, which was saying something seeing how ancient the family home was, the Burrow's kitchen had never seen itself so overwhelmingly full with people. Surprising, really, considering the Weasleys' brood. They all sat or stood around the enlarged table in the expanded room, conversation was flowing and breakfast was quickly disappearing. The meal had obviously been excellently cooked by Mrs. Weasley, assisted by Ginny. Of course, Ginny had only set the table, considering Molly demeanor became that of a furiously protective lioness when it came to her domain.

Said matronly woman sat at one end of the table smiling gently as her eyes wandered across the room to her husband. The usually exuberant bespectacled red-haired man stood by the window, talking seriously to the Order members present. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody all stood aroud Arthur, holding their drinks while talking lowly. Fred and George sat at the opposite side of the long wooden table, talking to the nmembers of the former Gryffindor Quidditch team, including Charlie, Oliver Wood (who now played for Puddlemore United team), Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell. Their hushed and excited whispers indicated that they were talking about the game they all loved to distract themselves. Bill sat alongside the dragon-handler, chatting with his girlfriend, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum, who had turned out to be visiting his fellow former tri-wizard champion at her manor when Bill had asked the French witch for help. He had shocked everyone by letting his indifferent mask fall…

Flashback:

As soon as he finished expanding the Burrow's kitchen and living room, Bill rushed to his apartment through the Floo. He had to pack his things and ask for a transfer from Egypt to the Gringotts' branch back in England so he could support his family during the rapidly upcoming war. Just as he was packing the last of his possessions, an elegant silver-winged falcon flew through the open window and landed on his bedpost and, extending its leg, indicated that it had a letter tied to it. Bill immediately recognized the bird and cursed. He had forgotten he was supposed to be in a date with Fleur… two hours ago. Once more, curses flew out of his mouth.

His eyes flitted around as he took on an appraising look and turned around to untie the letter.

"Merci, Braconnier (1)," he said giving him a treat before letting him go and unrolling the scroll to read the letter. A few moments later, he nodded to himself and grabbed some Floo powder from the mantle and threw it into the fire. He was sure he could trust the Delacours, especially Fleur and Gabrielle, who had become very close to Harry after the second task, though not many people knew it. He knew the French witches had been exchanging letters with the raven-haired youth, eventually forming a brother-sisters kind of bond. It had been one of the _very_ few things that had kept Harry from having a complete breakdown during Umbridge's rule at Hogwarts.

"Demeure (2) Delacour: Paris, France!"

Emerald flames wrapped Bill Weasley's body as he stepped in and snapped his eyes shut. He landed moments later and shook the ashes away. He straightened right on time, as he suddenly found himself being smothered by a mass of silvery blonde hair.

"Tu es ici, mon cher(3)," Fleur exclaimed.

"Hiya, love," he answered before wincing as she slapped his shoulder and proceeded to admonish his tardiness in rapid French. After she finished her tirade, she hugged him and looked up to his face. The curse-breaker smiled at the half-veela, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Fleur noticed and knew something was wrong.

"Bill?"

The red head turned and sighed. He spoke in English, something that showed his state of mind, as he was used to speak French when in Fleur's home.

"Is everyone home? I'm afraid I bring bad news."

Fleur gasped and hurriedly led him to the balcony, where her parents and sister sat with the remnants of typically light French breakfast, chatting with a dark haired man Bill seemed to be incapable of remembering at the moment, considering he had his back turned.

Gabrielle, being the first to notice the couple's entrance, rushed towards them, arms wide open to hug Bill around his waist.

"Frère, je t'ai étonnée! (4)" Bill grinned as he spun little Gaby in the air, his in-laws watching in amusement. The dark haired man who accompanied them turned around, allowing the red head to see him clearly. The man had a crooked aquiline nose that had probably been broken several times and silky hair fell around pale features and rounded shoulders as black eyes stared at Bill. The curse-breaker was astounded. It was Viktor Krum! How was it possible?

Viktor smiled at Bill's shocked expression and proceeded to answer the unvoiced question before the English man could open his mouth.

"I never lost contact with Fleur or Harry. I have been writing to him through Fleur."

It was evident that the French veela was not the only one who had kept practicing their English. Bill shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Delacour. After his girlfriend reminded of the reason he had come, Bill told them what had happened, turning to Fleur several times to apologize for having missed their date.

Fleur covered his mouth before he could apologize a millionth time and said:

"You had a very good reason to miss it, Cher. I do not mind. Is there something I-we can do?" She corrected herself after hearing her father clear his throat and feeling Gabrielle tugging at her leg.

Viktor stood and added, "I vont to help too," his accent was made evident by his distress, "Harry has become a good friend of mine, even if ve don't see each other much."

Bill smiled, gladly accepting the extra help. This time, the smile he gave reached his eyes. Perhaps there was still hope, after all.

End of flashback

Most of Harry's Defense Association was huddled beside the Quidditch players, whispering anxiously, Ginny, Ron and Hermione among them. Those absent were Marietta Edgecombe, who had NOT been invited after her betrayal, and Cho Chang, who had been kicked out, literally…

Flashback:

Molly had been ushering the arriving guests when she noticed Ginny, Neville and Luna glaring furiously at someone unseen. As everyone suddenly fell silent, the five of them stepped forward, their fiery looks never wavering. Following their line of sight, someone, probably Ron and Hermione, gasped. It was Cho Chang, Harry's almost-girlfriend, who had broken up with him on their first date for unknown reasons (**A/N**: rumors are not just the same as reality, are they? And really, there must have been some reason other than jealousy. I mean, Cho didn't really seem to know Harry… at all!). Only they did not seem so unknown now.

The Asian young woman seemed not to notice the trio's stares, which had been joined by Ron and Hermione's.

"Hey there, everyone," she greeted obliviously confident. She really seemed to enjoy the stares, confusing them with admiring looks.

The adults watched carefully, they understood that there was something Harry had kept silent about the 'Cho Incident' as he had come to refer to it. They wondered what had really happened between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Seekers, as everyone thought a 'wet' kiss and _one_ date could not be enough to garner Harry's complete avoidance of Cho after Valentine's disaster.

The five friends approached Cho, who had just noticed their stormy vengeful expressions. She yelped as five wands appeared out of nowhere, pointing directly at her face.

"W-Wh-What's wrong guys?"

"You thought we would never find out, didn't you Chang?" Ginny enquired coldly. She smirked evilly as she saw the Ravenclaw girl shiver.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny."

"Oh, really, Cho," Luna took over, "You must discuss _private_ matters away from the _halls_, especially near the library where everyone coming out can hear you." Her voice had turned hard. Gone was Looney Lovegood, replaced by the brilliant girl who had followed the Defense Association's leader to the Department of Mysteries. Seeing Cho frown in confusion, Neville and Ron stepped ford and wrapped an arm around Ginny and Luna respectively.

"Come on, Chang—"

"Perhaps we could help you remember."

"You were talking to your _dear _friend, Marietta—"

"—just outside the library—"

"—right after you bitched out on Harry."

Finally realizing where things were going, Cho paled and turned to leave, only to have her arms caught tightly by Luna and Ginny. No one had seen them move as Neville and Ron continued their twin-play. Ron took up where Neville had stopped.

"I believe you told her something along the lines of 'That Potter bastard just ruined my plans… If he had followed through that lust-potion induced crush I would have been _the Golden Boy's Wife_.'"

Oh, yes. Cho remembered that conversation very clearly. She had tried to gain Potter's attention during that match back in his third year, her fourth, by using a Love Potion as perfume. Being the _Amazingly brilliant_ Ravenclaw witch she was, she had added several extra ingredients that let her control the direction the smell-induced potion flowed, charming only the ones she wanted to. It had worked perfectly, seeing as she kept catching Potter looking at her with puppy eyes.

Hermione spoke up, shocking everyone by slapping Cho speaking so coldly, they could feel their hairs stand on end.

"You intended to charm him into sleeping with you," Cho froze as she heard her intended plan slip through the Gryffindor witch's lips, making it sound as cruel as it really was as her firm but quiet voice echoed in the dead-silent room, "You drank a Fertility Potion every time you saw him in hopes that he would act upon the spell so that you would be able to use his honor as a trap. You would make him see that marrying you was the best thing for both of you. Then you would divorce him and leave him penniless."

Cho became white as a ghost as every person in the room finally understood her attitude. White-hot rage was evident in every face present.

"H-H-Ho-How?" She couldn't understand how she had been discovered. Listening to her own plan coming out of Granger's lips made it sound really _cruel_… She had continuously told herself that it was only for the best… That it was the only way a ruined pureblooded Lady could redeem and give herself a real name in the Wizarding World.

"As to how we know," Hermione smirked as she interrupted Cho's train of thought, "Harry became even more silent after your last meeting and we tried to convince him to tell us what was wrong. When he finally gave up, he showed us a couple of empty potion vials… one of the labels read '_Love-Lust Potion_', while the other one _'Soluzione della signora infertile _(5)_'_. He said he had seen them fall out of your bag," she smiled sweetly and ended up with "I really didn't know Harry had been studying Italian…Did you Cho?"

That's when Cho Chang started shaking and gulped._ I really messed up this time._ She looked around at her fellow Ravens, only to find them pointing their wands at her, together with the rest of those in the kitchen-room.

"Just don't mess up with my kitchen, children… And someone will have to stop by the hospital."

_Several curses and hexes later__…_

A horrified scream echoed through the halls of the disinfectant-smelling shiny white halls. A sick-looking bundle lay on the floor of Saint Mungo's entrance hall. Among the tentacles, warts, green spots and boils, there was a cardboard stating:

Is payback a bigger bitch than you are, Cho Chang?

End of flashback

A/N: Here are the translations. I'm sorry for any Cho-lovers out there, but she really got on my nerves with her attitude at Madam Puddifut's. I mean, first she seduces Harry into going on a date, right after a little kiss, and then she blows up on him because Harry said he didn't want to talk about Cedric. Okay, so Harry could have been a bit more subtle or understanding, but they barely talked to each other before and after the kiss and he (as I stated earlier in my plot) hadn't had the chance to properly grieve after the shock of seeing his fellow champion being murdered right in front of his eyes.

Braconnier = a poacher or illegal hunter.

Demeure = my French is not very good, but it roughly means 'manor', the French word 'maison' means 'house'. This means Bill called out 'Delacour Manor' adding 'Paris, France!' to imply an international Floo trip.

Mon =my, Cher =dear, so it means 'my dear'.

Frère, je t'ai étonnée! =Brother, I missed you! (**A/N:** at least according to the word processor's translation).

Soluzione della signora infértiles =infertile lady's solution (**A/N:** horribly unoriginal name, I know. I just couldn't think if anything else… at least I changed to Italian, didn't I? ; P)

Anyway, hope you liked this chapter. I expect to gain some inspiration and write a bit every other day to post the next one soon.

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!**

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